Damaged
by SignatureNF
Summary: I sum this up in the first chapter, for the most part. Also I have now idea what I'm doing with this yet, so. This is a mystery novel crossover with the book series Dexter (which wasn't an option), and The Wolf, my original Fiction listed on


AN: To start off, I should probably let you know that this story is being written for entirely character building purposes, so I may suddenly just stop writing for a while. I've wanted to write a fanfiction for the Dexter books for a while now and the idea popped into my head for a Dexter/The Wolf crossover story that might be fun to write. So the main characters are going to be Dexter Morgan and Josephine Wulffe. For anyone reading any of the books involved, this story takes place before the first of the Dexter books and during the last year of Jo's college life (i.e.: at age 21 and pre-doctorate).  
Dexter and the others from Miami Metro © Jeff Lindsay  
Serial Killer MO © History (Jack the Ripper)  
Josephine Wulffe, Wolf, and other FBI Agents © SignatureNF  
For more of Jo (her original book), see The Wolf on

Ever the readers',  
NF

I wasn't the type to take out of state vacations, especially with this being my last year of college. This was an exception, with three prostitutes found cut up in the streets of Miami, I was asked to consult on what would likely be my last case. On seeing the body, the articles and police reports didn't do the scene justice. The once flowing rivers of blood had pooled and dried; the woman had been dead for long enough for Rigor Mortis to set in. I watched with the others as Miami Metro's 'blood guy' rattled off what I already know.  
"The attacker slashed at her," his arm followed the arc of blood – up from below, down from above, and repeat, "then he left her here to bleed out, no signs of the body being moved," a 'but' hung in the silence but only I seemed to notice it. I followed his gaze to where the assailant stood, according to the blood. He was hiding some of his knowledge from the others, and for a moment I saw him watching me; he knew that I could tell. But then we looked away as a chill ran down my spine, because in his eyes I saw another monster, and yet Wolf made no threats, only purred from her den in the dark.  
"I'm sorry Agent Williams, but I was wondering why you brought a civilian to a crime scene," the detective on point, one María LaGuerta, spoke over me to Agent Edward Williams.  
"I'm a consultant," I pulled my K-9 Unit ID and my consultant's license to show her, "I was here on vacation so Agents Williams and Adams asked me to come have a look," I tried to be polite, I really did.  
"So the FBI has gone so far downhill that they're calling dog-trainers in to consult?" she spoke with a contempt I would normally have ignored, but Wolf was so hungry… So I bit back her snarl in favor of my familiar icy calm as my handler was called away.  
"I understand, you know," for a moment she looked confused by my thinly veiled sarcasm, "when people achieve more than you, you have to lower them to your level. It's a self-esteem issue, believe me I get it. But," my voice lowered, "when someone like me comes along, show some respect, or you may lose what little you _have_ gained," I was fairly certain that it was entirely false, but I didn't really care. I turned and started after Williams, but she didn't let me.  
"You're a glorified dog trainer, you haven't done shit," In hindsight, I should have walked away, but I couldn't. I grabbed her collar and let my mask slip, if only for a moment.  
"I started out with abusive parents and no chance at attending school. Then I lived on the street and skipped elementary altogether, putting myself through high school. I was raped my senior year, at 10 years old by one of my classmates. Then I walked to Pennsylvania where I'm getting a general PhD. The _only_ reason I'm working for the K-9 Unit, outside of the dogs, is to finish paying for my house. I'm 21 years old, I bet you were still in school at my age," I wore a twisted smile that brought a very familiar look to her face: fear.  
"Wulffe," Williams put a hand on my shoulder, a warning in his voice, "let it go," he spoke low enough for only me to hear, so I took a breath and let go of LaGuerta's collar. "Our apologies detective, Ms. Wulffe is a little touchy on the subject of respect," he steered me away before I could say something else to get myself into more trouble. "Wulffe, I've told you this before, you need to try to keep your mouth shut. I know you've been through a lot, but you can't take it out on other people," his tone carried more bite than usual, so I nodded, resetting my mask. "You alright?" I looked up at him in a brief moment of surprise and his gaze had softened. I nodded slightly and put on a fake smile.  
"Yeah, a moment longer," I paused to shrug, "who knows, but I'm okay." I studied him a moment, he always had been as close to a father as I'd ever had, "Thanks." He nodded and studied me a moment longer, as if looking for a lie; then he turned and walked away again. I watched him go this time, waiting for him to disappear before I turned back to the scene. "You stopped," I spoke to the 'blood guy' after making sure no one else would hear, "in your report." He looked up at me with a feigned surprise.  
"I did?" I nodded slightly.  
"He stood there," I nodded towards the spot and took a moment to examine the spatter, "judging from that pattern, the killer was about your height," I looked back at him, "meaning it's a male, from," I eyed him a moment, "5' 10" to about 6 foot," he stared at me a moment.  
"Alright then, yeah, I didn't tell them," I nodded.  
"Why?" He seemed to be thinking up a lie so I sighed, "Come with me," I lifted his bag and carried it over to the shade, leaving him to follow more slowly, "Spill, and tell the truth," he simply continued to stare.  
"I'm not sure that we've met, I'm Dexter Morgan," I nodded slightly but didn't let him change the subject.  
"Yeah, the blood guy, don't try to change the subject," I studied him a moment before leaning close and looking him straight in the eye, "You're like me," my voice was soft now as he leaned slightly away from me, "I can see the Monster in your eyes," now there was something akin to shock in his eyes.  
"Monster?" One last attempt at feigned ignorance, but my raised eyebrows told him that I didn't believe it, "'like you,'" he wore the faintest of smiles, "I thought I saw it move," I nodded.  
"It was strange, she didn't growl at you like she does other Monsters," I was quiet, thoughtful, then I shook my head, "Quite strange indeed," I leaned back again, "you're hoping to keep him for yourself, for you and your Monster." He nodded slightly and again I sighed, shaking my head, "if I were you, I would stick to cold cases, you end up with less obvious disappearances," again he stared at me.  
"Good advice, but I can't do that this time," briefly I thought about asking why not, but then I decided that I didn't really care.  
"If you say so," I turned and walked back to the car to wait for Williams; I really was tired, and the heat was making me fall asleep on my feet.


End file.
